


color's have feelings too

by eve_jpg



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Colors, Kinda depressing, No Fandom - Freeform, angsty ngl, but im not, cry, how do I tag things, i barely cry at writing, i think im supposed to be selecting the options that pop up, if i make someone cry with my writing i think id cry, if that wasn't obvious, if you try hard enough you can imagine a character, imagine your kin, just kinda dry sob yk, kinda bad ngl, muahahaha, not really a fan fic, read @ your own risk, thats pretty much worse, unisex protagonist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eve_jpg/pseuds/eve_jpg
Summary: Color’s carry memories, I hate the ones they choose to hold. I hate my own memories.I hate colors.(this doesn't belong to any fandom and it isn't really fanfiction tbh)





	color's have feelings too

I love the color red. Red was the color of sunsets on the beach, red was the cake I would make with my siblings on the weekends, red was the lollipops I would trade with my friends, red was the color of my baby cousin’s crib. Red was also the nose bleeds I would get after a bad fight, red was the color my knuckles would turn after punching my walls too hard, red was the color of the roses they put on my real dad’s casket at the funeral, red was the suit my mom made me wear when she married my step-dad, red was the puffiness under my eyes after an especially teary screaming match with my mom. I hate the color red.

I love the color orange. Orange was my favorite flavor at the Ice cream shop downtown, orange was the color I dyed my friend’s hair, orange was the balloons at my thirteenth birthday party, orange was the fruit I’d trade at lunch every day. Orange was also the fire my dad went in, orange was his work uniform, orange was the first food my mom shoved down my throat, orange was my step-dad’s favorite color. I hate the color orange

I love the color yellow. Yellow was the smiley faces I carved into my desk, yellow was the highlighted words at late-night study sessions, yellow was the popcorn my family ate on movie night, yellow was my sister’s walls before we moved away, yellow was a banana that I’d pretend was a phone. Yellow was also our last Christmas card, yellow was the paint covering up the door mom and dad had painted before he died, yellow was a coverup so we could move on from dad, yellow was the ‘happy color’, yellow was fake. I hate the color yellow.

I love the color green. Green was the plants that my brother planted in the garden, green was the crushed sprite cans after sleepovers in my sister’s room, green was the lime mints my dad used to love, green was the dinosaur figurine I got on my eighth birthday, green was the bean bag chair my siblings would fight over. Green was also the watch my step-dad wore, green was the Gatorade bottle my step-dad would bring to his hockey games, green was the forest I got lost in when I was little, green was my lunchbox that got stolen in sixth period, green was the pillow I screamed into at night. I hate the color green

I love the color blue. Blue was the sea back at home, blue was the color my fishes tank was tinted, blue was my parent’s bedsheets, blue was the digital camera I took photos of me and my friends on, that was also the same camera my step-dad snapped in half, blue was the stone on my mom’s new wedding ring, blue was the dress my mom wore on her first date with my step-dad, blue was the color of the candle that started the house fire my dad went into. I hate the color blue

I love the color purple. Purple was my star wars poster in the old house, purple was always the last Jolly Rancher flavor in the bag, purple was the color of my Dad’s favorite sports team, purple was the matching shirts my friends and I got for Christmas, purple was the water bottle I brought to school every day, purple was also the bruise forming under my left eye, purple was the tie my step-dad wore to work, purple was my step-dad’s daily pills, purple used to be my favorite color. I hate the color purple

Color’s carry memories, I hate the ones they choose to hold. I hate my own memories.

I hate colors.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos to you if you actually read this. feedback and constructive criticism would be appreciated. xoxo.


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